


If these wings could fly

by Mullk6



Series: What if? [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: ASL, ASL Brothers, ASL forever, Ace needs a hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Pirates kidnap people, Because Marco and Thatch are pirates, Comfort, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Fuck you Outlook, Gen, Nobody likes you, Reunions, Sabo is a sweetheart, Sabo needs a hug, Sabo never escaped, but that's alright, so everything is fine, they both get one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-07-08 15:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15933584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mullk6/pseuds/Mullk6
Summary: What if Sabo never left? With his father holding his brothers' lives hostage, Sabo stayed in his gilded cage, waiting patiently for the day when the man's lack of a contingency plan would let him escape.You can't threaten someone who's no longer within reach, after all.He couldn't have expected to run into a pair of Pirates that derailed those plans. In a good way, but still.Sabo could've never been happier with the result.





	1. Sunlight comes creeping in

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [once golden and starbright](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576514) by [titaniaeli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/titaniaeli/pseuds/titaniaeli). 



Nine years... almost ten, now... that's how long Sabo had been imprisoned in a golden cage, his wings tied down, unable to touch the sky. He hadn't tried to escape. Not yet. Not when he still had a brother he needed to protect by staying silent and mostly obedient. His father knew very well what to threaten to get his son to obey.

However, his father was also extremely stupid. Instead of trying to find a new way to intimidate him, he'd gotten used to being able to threaten Luffy, with no back up plan.

This was exactly what Sabo was banking on. He'd only need to wait until Luffy's 17th birthday.

Then... he would be free.

They were on a ship, because of some party his father had received an invitation to. Sabo wasn't sure how the man knew someone from the New World, but he wasn't inclined to care either. The party hadn't even been interesting, though the sorts of things his father was invited to and he himself was forced to attend were _never_ any fun, so Sabo wasn't really disappointed so much as resigned.

The blond had taken out his goggles form an inner pocket, he wasn't allowed to wear them on his hat anymore, but he'd managed to save them from being thrown away, barely. He absently stroked one of the scratched up lenses with his thumb. He was wearing black gloves as opposed to the white ones his father wanted him to wear, taking any chance to subtly rebel that he could. Honestly, he wanted leather gloves, if only because he'd have better grip, but no, his father had to be a snobby bastard and _insist_ on silk. Sabo hated the gloves with a passion, but there was little he could do without inciting the man's rage-

“I thought I had that trash thrown away!”

Suddenly the goggles were snatched away by the white-gloved hands of his father.

“Ah!” Sabo panicked and tried to snatch them back, but was instead backhanded hard enough for him to hit his head on the edge of the ship he'd been leaning against only moments before, his hat flying onto the deck.

“You will not be seen holding such rubbish!”

That was what the man said as Sabo watched him throw the goggles over the edge of the boat. The young man tried to catch them before it was too late, but they disappeared over the edge before his hand could make contact. Sabo was left there, arm outstretched down towards the gentle waves as he leant over the rail in despair.

His father huffed and walked away, leaving Sabo to mourn the loss of the last physical tie to his past. Just as he was about to retire to his cabin, he spotted something glimmering. The unfortunate noble blinked and, after cramming his hat back on his head, jumped over the rail and landed on the pier.

There, just out of reach, his precious goggles dangled from a thin chip of wood, almost taunting him with how close he had been to losing them forever. His analytic brain immediately went through ways of getting them, before settling on the fastest and, quite possibly the most reckless way of getting them. Determined, Sabo turned his left glove inside-out and prepared himself for the stupidity he was about to pull.

Marco and Thatch were re-stocking on an island on their way back from a mission, they didn't need to get much since it was only the two of them, which meant Thatch could explore the town. Marco only accompanied him due to the fact that they didn't have enough time to spare for Thatch to start flirting with anyone. They weren't joined at the hip, but Marco wasn't about to let his brother completely out of his sights, either. This was how the phoenix ended up near the other docks, reserved for 'VIP' vessels. Honestly, the posturing was irritating and Marco didn't see the point behind it.

He was walking past one of the docks when he heard the yelling. Stopping and turning his head, Marco had just enough time to see a large man backhand someone hard enough that they hit their head on the railing and disappear behind it, probably hitting the deck. The Whitebeard Pirate winced at the crack he heard, wondering if the other person was still conscious. That was answered when a blond head rose slowly, sans the hat he'd barely glimpsed which had been on the person's head before the strike.

“You will not be seen holding such rubbish!”

The dark haired man exclaimed, throwing whatever he had been holding aloft, most likely whatever had started the one-sided argument, overboard, causing the other person to almost dive over the rail to try and catch it, but failing if the way he was hanging in defeat, one arm outstretched towards the water, was any indication.

“And clean yourself up!”

The elder huffed, leaving the younger. His son, perhaps?

The blond didn't acknowledge him, had perhaps not even heard him and Marco had to suppress a sneer. Damn nobles, even their own kids weren't safe from their behaviour. Just what kind of a father tells their offspring to clean themselves up after _causing_ said offspring to need to do that? 

Marco could see the cut on the young man's temple which could only have come from being backhanded into the railing. Though it did make him wonder just what the man had thrown away. Marco was about to leave when he saw the blond jump overboard, hat once again on his head and then peering at something, his back turned. Perhaps whatever it was, it was buoyant?

Apparently not, since the next thing the baby noble did was discard his top hat and leap for the side of the boat. After he processed this, he noticed the boy was clinging to a protrusion on the ship with the fingertips of his left hand, while he was trying to reach for something else, a determined look on his face.

“What the heck is that kid doing?”

Marco glanced to the side as Thatch popped up from nowhere to ask that question.

“I'm not sure, but you've got to admit, his grip-strength is impressive, yoi.”

As he said that, the blond noble seemed to get more frustrated as he bit the middle finger of his glove and tugged it off, once again reaching for whatever it was that had been thrown down by his father.

Because let's face it, what else would the kid be trying to grab?

There was a look of triumph on his face as he finally managed to grab it, but Marco could see what was about to happen moments before his grip slipped.

“He's gonna fall.” The older blond muttered, dashing forwards before he could even think about it, one hand outstretched as shock overcame the triumph on the other's face.

Sabo realized what was going to happen the moment his silk glove finally betrayed him by slipping, causing him to lose his grip on the side of the ship and pitch forwards and down. The only thing he could think was: _My father is going to beat me so badly for this._

But before he could hit the sea water, someone grabbed him by the back of his ridiculously over-priced coat and hauled him onto the pier.

Sabo let out an explosive sigh of relief, his right glove falling from his mouth, before looking up at his saviour from his position of sitting on damp wood, his hands braced behind him, quipping an equally polite and relieved “Thank you.”

The man, who'd released his hold on him, raised an eyebrow as his eyes flickered to Sabo's right hand “Goggles, yoi?”

Sabo blinked and raised his hand towards his chest, looking at his treasure “Ah, yes. While my father considers them trash, to me they are the last thing that connect me to the only thing worth living for. Seems stupid, but I can't seem to let them go.” he ended with a wry smile, tucking them away in the very same pocket he usually carried them in.

The other man hummed as Sabo heaved himself up on his feet again.

“Why is your glove backwards?”

Sabo paused at the new voice and turned around to face what appeared to be a chef with huge hair, not commenting on that, he instead held up his left hand and said “Old trick for hiding stains. My father is less likely to notice and _I_ won't get in trouble for it. Unfortunately that would _not_ have helped me had I actually taken an impromptu swim.” he finished, shuddering at the thought of the consequences for _that._

The other blond raised an eyebrow and asked “Is he always like that?”

Sabo scratched his neck “You saw that, huh? Well, usually, yeah. Sometimes he's worse and sometimes he ignores my existence. Wish he'd do the latter more often, though.”

The man with the pompadour was the next to speak up “Couldn't you just... I dunno, leave?”

The tone was so incredulous, Sabo had to hold back a snort “In theory, yes. In practice? ...No.”

The young noble sighed as he bent down to pick up his other glove, scowling as he put it on, before righting his left glove, leaving no evidence of his latest escapade. He stood there in silence, looking at his hands, before clenching them into fists.

“If it was just me... if it was just me, then I would have left long ago... but as long as my presence keeps my brothers safe, then I will stay under my father's thumb.”

The two adults looked at him with understanding Sabo had not expected to see, but he grinned at them as he continued “But I only need to stay until my little brother is 17. He'll be leaving our home island then and once he's gone, I'm free.” but his good mood evaporated as it reminded him of the fact he had no idea where one of them was and hadn't seen either of them in... “huh, it's been almost ten years since I last saw them... I wonder how they're doing...” the blond sighed, looking up into the sky, as if it held all the answers.

Shaking off the negative mood, Sabo bid farewell to the duo and made his way back onboard the ship, hoping to god his father would be busy for the rest of the day and ignore him.

He had no idea just what the two pirates were plotting behind his back.

“Wanna rob some nobles?” Thatch asked, looking at the ship with a contemplative expression.

Marco raised his eyebrow and shifted to lean on his other foot, his arms crossed “Do I ever, yoi.”

The two grinned, having taken a liking to the baby noble. Ace would like a brother his own age, they were sure.


	2. Illuminates our skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thatch and Marco like the baby Noble. They want the baby Noble. As such, they're gonna _steal_ the baby Noble.
> 
> Sabo doesn't understand what's going on, but fire doesn't seem so bad anymore, he thinks as the ship burns.

It had taken some hasty calculations and even hastier shopping, but the two Whitebeard Commanders had re-stocked and were discreetly tailing the Nobles' ship. They couldn't attack it too close to the shore, where someone might see. They were there to rescue the baby Noble, not cause him grief by causing his little brother's death or worse. However, if they attacked out in the open sea and happened to accidentally do too much damage to the ship, causing it to sink? Well, no one would know but the survivors, if there were any.

Which was why, two weeks later, the two pirates stretched and cracked their knuckles respectively, grinning at the thought of all the fun they were about to have. Time to rob some Nobles.

Sabo lied in his bed, trying not to put too much weight on his injuries and mostly failing miserably. Out of the public eye, Outlook took a much more heavy-handed approach in disciplining his offspring for “interacting with rabble” as the man put it. The wound on his temple was positively minor compared to what the man had done during the journey towards Goa.

The blond's stomach growled and the young noble curled his arms around it, followed by the rest of his body curling inwards, but didn't touch the bruised flesh. He was hungry, but he was afraid whatever he ate he would just throw back up. His father wasn't knowingly starving him, he didn't think, but Sabo knew better than to eat his fill around the man. It would just lead to more punishment for “eating like a barbarian”. It wasn't his fault he had a higher metabolism than the walking pear. The soon-to-be-20-year-old chuckled self-depricatingly. Great. He was so hungry he was using food-related insults. What was his life.

Suddenly, the ship rocked violently, sending Sabo sprawling onto the floor. The noble let out a pained groan as his injuries made themselves even more known. He really didn't want to get up even if the ship was being attacked, and he was pretty sure it was. If they were in a storm, the ship would have been rocking even before the sudden jolt.

Slowly but steadily, the blond heaved himself up and off the floor, an arm coming up to cradle his bruised ribs as he took slow, steady breaths before stumbling towards his desk, intent on packing up everything important to him if they had to abandon ship. He also resigned himself to another beating if that was the case, his father tended to take all of his frustrations out on him. His writings and a few knick-knacks packed away, Sabo tossed the suitcase onto his bed and collapsed into his desk chair, face in his hands as he broke down just a little.

He wasn't sure how long he could live like this. He had no idea if Ace or Luffy had even survived the fire and his father was just lying to him, or if Ace truly had left the island when he turned 17 and Luffy was biding his time until his own birthday came. He could only hope, but without any access to newspapers with bounty posters, Sabo was in the dark. All he had was a calendar and some vague rumors of a pirate that might be Ace, but he couldn't be sure. 'Spade' sounded like something Ace might come up with, but he never could get the names of the members of the crew. And even then, he was pretty sure the crew had either disappeared or disbanded.

The reluctant noble was jerked out of his pity party by the door opening violently, and not in the normal violent way he was used to. No, this was caused by someone _kicking_ the door, rather than it being opened like a 'civilized person' but with rage.

Looking up, Sabo came face-to-face with the grinning figure of one of the men he'd briefly spoken to after almost falling into the sea at the docks.

“Pack your things, we're leaving!” the man told him gleefully.

“... Ha?” was the sound of confusion that came from Sabo, mind reeling.

The pompadour-haired man then spotted his suitcase and grinned wider, though he didn't know how that was possible “Oh, how convenient, let's go!” the man exclaimed and strode over to the bed and grabbing the handle.

That was all it took for the blond to start moving “Wait a moment, you can't just-!”

He didn't get to finish his protest as the man spun around and ducked just enough for his shoulder to hit Sabo's already bruised stomach, causing the noble to bend over in pain and only assist the man as he threw the injured young man over his shoulder and strode out of the room.

Sabo bit his lip to keep in the pained noises as he struggled to breathe, one of his hands fisting the back of the white chef's jacket the man was wearing. He was sure the older stranger could feel him trembling, but the blond couldn't help it, there was a reason he'd been lying down earlier. He was starting to wonder if he was going to pass out from the pain when his vision blacked out for a moment due to the sudden jostling of the man jumping into what he assumed was his own boat.

He was laid out on the deck, unwilling and mostly _unable_ to move as he tried to suck in breaths even as he heard shouts and a noise that still haunted his nightmares.

The sound of _fire._

He soon heard the sound of wingbeats and someone landing on deck, accompanied by the voice of the man who'd caught him before he hit the water last time they'd met “Oy, Thatch, what did you do, yoi?”

“I did nothing, he was already injured when I took him!” the man who'd thrown him over his shoulder protested, sounding very affronted.

Sabo presumed the sigh came from the other blond even as the man told the other, Thatch, to set off. The nobleman weakly opened his eyes just enough to see his father's ship going up in flames, lifeboats and all, before he passed out from the strain he'd been put under.

His last thoughts before going under were spiteful and bitter, but entirely justified.

_Serves you right... burn like the Terminal, bastard._


	3. We watched the day go by, stories of all we did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabo wakes up, gets up, and wonders at the line where the sky meets the sea.
> 
> He is also plagued by bittersweet and just plain bitter memories while Marco and Thatch try and cheer him up. Well, mostly Thatch, Marco is better at plain comforting rather than cheering people up.

Sabo didn't wake up where he'd passed out. Instead he was in a cot that, even though it was harder than the bed back on Dawn or even his father's ship, was much more comforting to the former Terror of Gray Terminal. He was covered in bandages, the sleeves of his shirt unfastened and the garment unbuttoned, giving him a good view of his tended to wounds. Especially when he raised his arm to look at it, causing the sleeve to slip down to his elbow. He was still in pain, but there had to have been some sort of ointment put on the bruises and his ribs didn't feel quite as broken as he'd assumed them to be. There was also an actual bandage around his head, so that had also been given proper medical attention. His coat, hat and gloves were in a less than tidy pile on a chair not too far from the cot and the goggles... his goggles were on the nightstand, within easy reach.

The 19-year-old held in a sob, not knowing what to make of his situation. They hadn't kidnapped him for ransom, that was blatantly obvious what with them destroying the ship and killing everyone on board. There wasn't a single lifeboat in the water as they left, Sabo was certain. The question was, why _had_ the two taken him? It was evident they meant him no harm, or, well, no physical harm, at the very least.

To be honest... he was slightly afraid. His life was once again out of his hands, but at least his brothers were safe, wherever they may be.

“I see you're awake, yoi. How are you feeling?”

Sabo looked towards the door and the familiar voice of the blond pirate before answering “In pain... confused... I guess?” well, his tone was certainly confused, Sabo thought tiredly.

The blond leaning against the doorway hummed before pushing off “Thatch was just about to start cooking, you think you can stomach something, yoi?”

His stomach churned at the thought of eating, but he knew he needed the nutrients “Maybe.” he allowed himself to say as he slowly pushed himself into a seated position, wincing at the pain it brought him.

Moving was perhaps not the best idea, but he _needed_ to get out on deck. The room was making him feel claustrophobic and if he was out on the sea, then _by god_ , he would _look_ at the sea! Perhaps his expression was easy to read or perhaps the other blond was familiar with the feelings running through the noble, since he only sighed in exasperation and moved to help him stand upright once he'd climbed out of bed.

The other man was taller than he was, was the absent thought the 19-year-old had as his left arm was slung across said man's shoulders. Every step hurt, but Sabo had never felt better. Especially when the smell of the sea breeze hit him in the face and he laid eyes on the endless blue spanning the horizon. His breath caught and his eyes widened as he gazed at what he had once viewed as unobtainable.

“How far does it go...?”

The words tumbled out, unbidden, but no one answered. Sabo didn't mind, it was a rhetorical question anyway. Though, the view did raise another question. Sabo turned his head to peer at the man holding him up “Where are we headed, exactly?”

The man quirked his lips as he began leading him in the direction of the kitchen, the noble assumed.

“Back to the Moby. We were supposed to be there already, so our brothers are probably worried, yoi.”

Sabo nodded, wracking his brain for knowledge he might be able to use. If he recalled correctly, the Whitebeard Pirates had a ship called Moby Dick. It was one of the easier things to find out, even with how his father had restricted information on Pirates and such as much as he could, so that Sabo wouldn't get any “dangerous ideas”. 

Sabo could achieve that perfectly well on his own, _thank you very much._

“You're taking me with you?” he inquired, wanting to make sure he was on the same page.

“Yeah, so long as you don't need us to pick up that brother you mentioned. He's safe, I take it, with that bastard dead, yoi?” the probably Whitebeard Pirate asked, glancing at him again even as they entered what Sabo could confirm was, in fact, the kitchen.

The renegade noble chuckled, voice thick with emotion “Yeah. Yeah, as safe as the idiot can be, what with all the trouble he usually got into back then... I doubt that's changed much... I hope that hasn't changed much.” he choked out, shoulders shaking as he was lowered onto a creaky chair.

The pompadour man, who had been there since before they entered, looked up from his food-preparation to shoot him a worried look “You really haven't seen them in ten years?”

Sabo shook his head, his throat feeling clogged “We barely swore brotherhood before I was locked up again. I would have tried to escape during the hullabaloo generated by the arrival of a Celestial Dragon, but my father must have been angered enough by my outing the day prior that he locked me in my room for the entire week. I wasn't allowed to even leave the premises until half-a-year after that, which only got pushed so far back due to my numerous failed escape attempts, at which point he realized he could reign me in by...” his voice tapered off, feeling defeated by the memories of his later childhood.

“By threatening your brothers, yoi.” his fellow blond finished for him in a tone that told Sabo just how well the man understood his dilemma. Which wasn't all too surprising, if the rumors about the crew's family-dynamics were true.

Sabo swallowed, his resolve, what little was left of it, steeling for the first time in a long while “They're fine. They have to be. If there's anything in this world I can believe in, it's the fact that they're free and soon enough both of them will be sailing. We promised to set sail at 17 and while I may be a couple years late, I'm at sea. Now I'll just... have to start looking for a place to be, I guess.”

The two pirates exchanged glances before the pompadour man shot him a grin “Well, you can start with us, I'm sure Oyaji will love you!”

Sabo returned the smile, much more subdued than what he would have been a decade ago, hoping the older man was right. It was going to be an interesting time, he supposed. He just hoped Ace wouldn't be to angry for not joining his crew the first chance he got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The irony is strong in this one.


	4. It made me think of you, it made me think of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace reminisces and bets ridiculous things. This time he's winning, though.

Ace wondered what could possibly had gone wrong and how much of it was Thatch's fault when his fellow Commanders didn't return when they were supposed to. Marco had called them to tell them they were taking a slight detour and everyone was wondering about what had happened. It didn't take long for the betting to start.

These ranged from devil fruit shenanigans to their boat sinking to Thatch losing the log pose and many more. Meanwhile, Ace had once again bet something highly specific but most likely not the case.

“I bet they tailed a ship, burned it down and kidnapped a noble to join the crew!”

“Ace, really, stop coming up with this sorta shit when betting, you're never gonna win that way.”

“One day I'll win and I'll point and laugh at all of you!”

No one stopped him, of course, but Ace would be the one to have the last laugh, someday. Hey, one day the New World would mold itself to make his bets accurate, it was only a matter of time. Then again, if there was one bet he knew he'd win eventually, it was betting on who would be the next Pirate King. Not that anyone was holding a poll on that, which, if Ace was being honest, seemed like a silly oversight. Or perhaps everyone else was just too fixated on making Oyaji Pirate King that they forgot that the man was from the same era as _that man_ and yet had made no move to actually try and become Pirate King. Not that he'd ever admit that to Luffy once they met again, the kid needed rivals and Oyaji was one of the safer bets concerning that.

But back on topic, Ace didn't actually think that was what had happened, he just liked making stupid bets and he _would_ laugh at everyone if one of his weird ideas ever became reality. Though, he had to admit, if only to himself, that this last one was due to the fact that he was once again feeling the ache left behind by Sabo being forced back to High Town. Ace had perhaps naively thought that if he could be strong enough, he could save his brother. Honestly, losing to Whitebeard had shown him just how weak he was, still. Now, as part of the crew, he often entertained the notion of asking the man if he could help, but never dared. He was a Yonko, why would he send anyone to the weakest sea just to retrieve some noble, no matter what connection Ace shared with him.

But Ace was starting to think about it, recently. He was the 2nd Division Commander now, so he had more power over the others. His division liked him well enough that he could probably get a good number of them to come along to cause chaos in Goa Kingdom. He wouldn't have to tell them why they were _really_ there, he could just set them loose in the city while he busted Sabo out. Possibly kicked Outlook in the nads while he was at it. Maybe kill him.

He just... he'd been thinking about it, recently.

Ace ducked his head so that the rim of his hat obscured his face and stealthily wiped his eyes. He didn't want anyone to see his tears. They'd ask questions and Ace was not ready to even think about answering them. Izo would probably notice he was depressed, but he'd be fine so long as no one saw him cry.

Only Luffy and the bandits had ever seen him cry.

Not even... not even Sabo had ever seen him cry. He didn't get the chance.

Ace wondered if his brother would ever forgive him, for not coming for him.

Turning his head towards the other side of the ship as the volume there suddenly increased, Ace put on a mask of happiness as the crew gathered around the edge. It seemed that Marco and Thatch were back.

Sabo tugged on the brown leather gloves he'd managed to trade his silk ones for on a brief stop before the two Whitebeard Commanders had set the course towards their ship. They had a much better grip than those godawful things he'd been forced to wear and would protect his pathetically soft hands.

“Why not just throw the gloves away? Why'd you need new ones?” Thatch asked him once the transaction had been done.

Sabo shot him a droll look as he breathed shallowly, his ribs still hurting “I don't have callouses anymore.” he explained bitterly, tightening his hands into fists as he passed the cook “And I'd much rather start working on acquiring them in a more controlled setting.”

Thatch just shrugged “Fair enough.” and the issue hadn't been brought up since.

The man had, however, still not stopped ribbing Sabo over his choice of weapon.

“It's _junk_!”

“It _works_ , so shut up!”

The former noble's injuries were almost nothing but a faint memory by the time they reached the Moby Dick, though Sabo found it quite laborous to ascend the rope ladder, which was why Thatch was carrying his pipe. And bitching about said pipe as they climbed up behind Marco, who'd taken the short route.

“It's still stupid.” Thatch said as they neared the railing.

“Oh, fuck off, you wanker, I'll have you know I was a _devil_ with a pipe back when I was younger!” Sabo called up to him, even as he wheezed from the pain it brought him.

His torso still held some pretty colourful bruising, which was why his coat and hat were stuffed into a bag which Marco had taken with him as he'd flown up ahead of them, meaning Sabo was left wearing his boots, trousers, shirt and gloves, with his goggles hanging around his neck. His arms were littered with almost faded bruises, so he didn't look quite as bad as he had a couple weeks ago. His head wound was completely healed, even. Though that was only because face-wounds healed fast.

At least Thatch helped him up the last bit, since the blond was starting to ache fiercely from aggravating his almost healed injuries. Hopefully he'd be able to see a real doctor now that they were on the Moby, but he wouldn't press his luck.

He wasn't paying much attention to what Marco and Thatch were saying, but he did straighten at the sound of an almost inaudible whisper. Now, normally he wouldn't have paid this any mind, but...

The whisper... it was-

“ _Sabo_...”

It was of his name.

He didn't have nearly enough time to brace himself when a figure launched itself at him, but he didn't even try to dodge at the sight of eyes the shade of which had long since been burned into his memories.

_Ace._


	5. In the moment, we're lost and found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion. At least the start of it.

He didn't recognize the new person on board, though his appearance niggled at something in the back of his head. Ace would be ashamed to say that it had taken him a couple minutes taking in exactly what Marco had brought with him, before the thought even manifested in his mind that maybe, _maybe_ , his luck truly was that good.

The hairstyle threw him off, but the rolled sleeves, the pipe Thatch was obviously knocking and _the scratched-up goggles around the blond's neck_ were what made Ace whisper a name he hadn't spoken out loud in years.

Sabo.

Sabo was on the Moby Dick.

_Sabo was on the Moby and away from his bastard of a father._

He may have used his flames to propel himself forward, sue him. But at least his brother had reacted to the name, no matter how faintly uttered, and had turned towards him so that the Logia could engulf him in a hug that could rival Luffy's. If there was one thing the little idiot's fruit was good for, it was being able to wrap around someone to give the best hugs. Ace would never admit it to anyone, though, let alone Luffy.

Sabo stiffened, but the 2nd Division Commander didn't mind, he just held him tightly, his face pressed against his brother's shoulder, whispering his name over and over again, unable to stop the tears. Soon he started apologizing, which was when the blond finally reacted.

First: _Ow, fuck, that hurts._

Second: _The hell is happening?_

Third: a vague memory of rubbery arms going round and round, holding him close as their owner laughed.

That was when Sabo realized he was being hugged. Next came the crashing realization that _he hadn't been hugged in ten years._

His arms trembled even as his ears stopped ringing and he registered the person holding him whispering his name, voice cracking at every other repeat. Once the sobs of his name turned to apologies, however, Sabo knew he had to act. 

So he did.

He finally brought his arms up, gloved fingers digging probably painfully into his brother's bare back, choking on his own spit as he teared up to match his own wet shoulder.

_Ace._

“ _Ace-_ ” the former noble hiccuped, squeezing tighter, ignoring the pain his brother was unknowingly causing him “I'm fine, I'm fine, we're fine, he burned, _we're free-_ ”

He wasn't really sure exactly what was coming out of his mouth, but it got Ace to stop apologizing, so it must've been enough.

“Wanted to kill 'im.” Ace mumbled into his shirt “Wasn' strong enuff...”

Sabo chuckled “Neither was I... those two burned the ship and took me with them, so in the end, neither of us had to be.”

That caused Ace to lift his head and disentangle from him, stepping back. Sabo looked with intrigue at the face he was making as he cocked his head.

“Let me get this straight,” the ravenette said, holding up his finger, eyes narrowed “are you telling me... that Marco and Thatch... tailed a ship... burned it down... and took you with them? To... join... us?”

Sabo wasn't sure where this was going “Yes... basically, why-”

Ace spun around and pointed at the people staring at them, and oh dear, everyone was staring at them “ _I WON THE BET!!!_ ”

Someone immediately tried to protest “Ace you can't possibly-”

But Ace cut them off “THATCH AND MARCO TAILED A SHIP, BURNT IT DOWN AND KIDNAPPED A NOBLE TO JOIN THE CREW! I FUCKING CALLED IT! I WON! SCREW ALL OF YOU!” before starting to laugh hysterically, clutching his stomach as he bent over from the force of it.

Sabo was feeling the urge to also laugh hysterically at the turn his life had suddenly taken. He hadn't expected to find one of his brothers on Whitebeard's ship. Never mind Ace, who had always had problems with the bare mention of fathers in general. But looking at the tattoo spanning almost the entirety of his back, Sabo knew Ace felt home in this crew.

It didn't mean he understood it, god knows he'd missed too much for it to make sense, when all Sabo had to go on was how 10-year-old Ace had acted.

Meanwhile, Thatch was having some sort of breakdown “What the fuck? How come _he_ gets immediately accepted, but we got death threats and glares!? Even after he joined!”

Sabo can believe that. It also makes him feel a bit better. It also makes him sad that Ace is still so negative and he is briefly worried about how Luffy grew up with just Ace to take care of him.

Ace managed to stop his minor mental breakdown long enough to straighten up, turn to Thatch and exclaim “This is different!”

“It's really not!” the chef screeched.

“Yes it is, _he's my brother!_ ”

The deck went silent at that as everyone within earshot digested that statement. Then chaos erupted and everyone started speaking over each other. Or, mostly everyone.

Marco sighed in exasperation and took Sabo's bag as he headed towards Ace's room. At least he knew where to store it now, he'd been debating over it for the past few days. Obviously the kid was gonna sleep in his brother's room for a while before he was assigned to one of the divisions. The Zoan was leaning heavily towards the 2nd, now, rather than his own. There was no way either of those two idiots were letting anyone separate them ever again. Their history would not allow it.

Hopefully Ace would have enough brains to force Sabo into the infirmary.

Who was he kidding, as soon as the little ball of flames noticed his brother's injuries, Sabo would have no chance of escape. Sure, the kid hadn't been too difficult, but the reluctance to have his wounds tended to by anyone other than himself was palpable. 

Marco smirked faintly, at least things wouldn't be boring for a while. He then immediately dreaded all the paperwork the reunited due would surely generate.

This was all Thatch's fault.


End file.
